Then You Look At Me |COMPLETED|

Table Talks

~Is it you or are the lights getting brighter in the night?~Grace VanderWaal.

Chapter Theme Song: 'Ur So Beautiful' by Grace VanderWaal.

°°

Rainey

My mom puts up a façade when she's around new people. She knows I never eat dinner with her and Jeff, and she knows she hasn't prepared such lovely food in a while. The plate of lasagna sitting in front of me looks unusual. Normally, I would have pizza for dinner while she takes Jeff out to one of the fanciest restaurants in town.

I still find it hard to believe that my mom is my 'mother'. We are nothing alike. She has long black hair that is a lot more 'well-behaved' than mine is and she's a slender-bodied woman with a height of 5′8. She likes shopping and jewelry while I am contented with a Rockstar T-shirt and leather boots. She likes getting her nails done at the poshest salon she can find while I, on the other hand, don't mind using the black nail polish from my dresser. We are total opposites, maybe that's why we don't get along. Anymore, that is.

The table is awkwardly quiet while I twirl my fork in my spaghetti; the noodles suddenly seeming more interesting than the people surrounding me.

Except for Ansel. He sparks my interest more than anything. His memorizing my poem was neat, but the scary fact that he may know a lot more than I think makes me uncomfortable.

Jeff is staring askance at Ansel from across the table while he shoves a forkful of noodles in his mouth.

Jeff is younger than my Mom by four years. He's a medium height man with curly brown hair that's always faded at the sides. He has this hideous stubble on his craggy jaw and his eyes are a weird color. Not sure which color they are because I can't look at him past five seconds without feeling disgusted. But they are probably a color close to grey or something. I don't care to know.

My mom is bringing forth her best-civilized behavior. If I wasn't so pissed at the earlier confrontation with her common-law husband, I would openly laugh at how hard she's trying.

"So, Ansel, right?" She begins, beaming at him from across the table.

He brings his eyes up from his untouched plate and nods, half his lips barely turning up in a smile. Once again, he doesn't smile with his eyes, but I doubt my Mom discerns that.

"You are quite good-looking. Are you in the same classes as my daughter?"

"Uh, well so far we have Math and Gym together."

"Oh, nice." She nods, pretending to care. "Is she doing well in school? Like, are there any complaints about her, is she involved in any quarrels or arguments of any-"

I sigh. "Mom, please."

"No. I have never seen her arguing with anyone." Ansel narrows his eyes a little. "She's quiet and she's great at Math. She's smart." He genuinely smiles after saying that, this time, with his eyes.

"Oh, is she?"

He cocks his head to the side, and she laughs a little. "Well you see, she has never shown me her test results and stuff. Only her detention sheets, since I had to sign them. Which was pretty often."